


The Only Constant

by isabeau



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Gen, Kinda old fic (pre-2005), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-01
Updated: 2005-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 07:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isabeau/pseuds/isabeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan dreams about the future, repeatedly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Constant

  


#### Act I: Dawn

  


* * *

  


There is a dream.

I am kneeling. Where does not matter; I do not notice surroundings.  
There is someone lying down with his head in my lap. I do not know  
who it is, and I cannot see the details of his face, but I know I love  
him, and I feel content in his presence. I am weaving pink-white  
flowers into his hair, and am chanting something softly. I do not  
recognize the words, but they feel like something I have said many  
times, and with each word I feel more at peace. I am old, he is old,  
and we are both dying. He looks at me, reaches one shaking hand up to  
touch my cheek, and tries to say something. No sound comes out. Then  
he shudders against me, and he dies. I whisper words of comfort and  
close my eyes, knowing I also will die.

And then I wake.

* * *

I awoke to the familiar darkness of the Temple rooms I shared with my  
Master, and tried to reorient myself in space and time. The dream was  
spinning in my head still, playing with what I knew of where I was.  
Half on instinct, I reached out with one hand, seeking an anchor.

Flesh met flesh. My Master's hand, dangled in sleep over the edge of  
his bed, twitched under my questing fingers. "Padawan?" he asked,  
voice heavily sleep-slurred. The certainty of reality flooded back  
into me, and I retreated.

"Nothing, Master. I'm sorry."

"Nothing?" He sounded more awake now, and through the shadows I could  
see him roll over and prop himself up on one elbow. "Was it a  
nightmare, Padawan?"

"No, Master," I said quietly. "A dream only; but it felt real, more  
real than a remembered experience."

"Ah." Qui-Gon lay back down, hands steepled above his chest.  
"Anything you care to talk about?"

"I would talk," I said a bit wryly, "if I knew what to say." I sighed  
and stared at the dark ceiling. As usual, it gave me no answers. "I  
can't say where I was; nor when, except that I felt old; nor why,  
except that there was someone with me, someone I cared deeply for. I  
was doing...something, I don't know what, but it felt like a ritual."

"All pretty vague."

"I know," I said, irritated with myself, "but it was like I would have  
known the details if I had bothered to see them."

"Mmm." My Master lay quietly for a moment, thinking. "And this dream  
disturbed you?"

"I was dying, Master. I do not know how I knew, but I did. I, and  
the one with me, were both dying."

"Death," Qui-Gon said thoughtfully, "is hardly a rare thing to dream  
about. It is one of the great mysteries of life, and a fear in that  
we cannot control it; and fears lead to dreams."

"Not for a Jedi. At least, that's not what Master Tinyan says." I  
sat up, clasping my legs to my chest. " 'There is no death, there is  
the Force', and I'm not certain how much my heart believes that; but I  
do not fear death as if I were some primitive who had barely learned  
fire." I stopped, trying to force my speech to be more even and less  
excited. A Jedi, after all, did not show emotion. "It is said that  
if a Jedi dreams of his death, it will happen that way."

"I have heard the same."

"But you do not believe it?"

Qui-Gon laughed quietly. "I would not say one way or another,  
Padawan. Tell me: Would you prefer this dream of yours to be true, or  
meaningless?"

I pressed my cheek against my knees, considering it. "True, I think.  
It would mean I will not die young, and means that I have someone with  
me when I do die."

There was hesitation in my voice, and he sensed it. "But?" he  
prompted.

I spread my hands, shrugging. "I'm fifteen years old, Master. There  
are things I want that I can never have, dreams of impossible gains.  
If it is vitally important to me that I not die alone, will I not  
dream of that?"

"Perhaps," he said, voice trembling with hidden humor.

I wanted to sulk at his laughter, but dared not. I was a Jedi, and  
must act as one. "If I dream of something because I want it, that  
does not make it a definite view of the future."

"Indeed not, Padawan."

I yawned, the interrupted sleep catching up to me. "So are you going  
to help me, Master," I said drowsily, "or just mock me?"

"I would never mock you," he said gravely. I could not tell if he was  
teasing. "But I can't help you in this matter. I have no way to tell  
the truth of your dream."

"Oh."

He chuckled at the disappointment I could not keep out of my voice.  
"I'm sorry for not knowing everything, Padawan. It is a failing even  
of some Jedi, I'm afraid."

"Yes, Master," I said with a smile.

"If this still bothers you in the morning, try speaking to Master  
Yoda. He knows more than many Jedi about dreams and visions. Perhaps  
he might provide more assistance than I can."

"Yes, Master."

"But right now, you should sleep."

"Yes, Master," I said, and smiled into the darkness.

Morning came, but with it no release of worry. The dream had returned  
twice more in the night, each time exactly the same, with no change  
and no increase of details. I felt more curious than concerned; but  
still, I took my Master's advice and went to see Yoda, one of the few  
Jedi Masters who was shorter than I was.

"Problem, you have?" Yoda asked when I asked to speak with him.

"Of a sort, yes." I settled to my knees before him, so that my head  
was more at his level.

"And go to your Master, you do not?" He tapped his cane against the  
floor almost absently.

"I did, Master Yoda, last night. He recommended I speak with you."

"Ah." His large, flexible ears stood straight up, and I wondered what  
he was thinking. He stayed silent, though, waiting for me to speak.

I looked down at my hands. "Master...I was wondering...how can I tell  
if a dream is...is a Force-guided vision of the future, instead of a  
simple collection of images and subconscious desires?"

Yoda gave a wheezing laugh. "Direct, you are. I like that. Had a  
dream, you have, yes?"

"Yes. Last night. Several times, in fact. I...I was old, and was  
dying."

"Dying." The old Master cocked his head at me. "Hmm."

"I...I've heard what people say about a Jedi's deathdream. But...I  
don't _know_. And I don't want to believe it'll be true, when it  
won't."

"If accurate this dream is," Yoda said slowly, "will your behaviour  
change?"

"You mean, will I get reckless because I know I won't die until I'm  
old?" I took Yoda's silence for a yes. "No. I would think not. I  
just...It would be nice to _know_ whether it's likely to be true, but  
I won't risk my life on it."

"Good." His eyes were slitted, almost closed, but I could feel his  
gaze on me, as intent as ever. "Always in motion, the future is.  
Your actions can change the future from what you see."

"But what I saw-- was it true?"

Yoda hummed to himself for a moment. "True it is," he said at last,  
so softly I could almost not hear. He looked almost sad. "Likely,  
that future will be."

"Thank you," I said. For half a moment I wanted to hug him, but I  
doubted that would go over well. So instead, I settled for another  
"Thank you," then stood to leave.

"Padawan."

"Yes, Master Yoda?" I stopped and half-turned.

"Get new clothes, you should." One clawed hand lifted to gesture at  
me. "Clothes must be the right length. Growing, you are."

I tugged at my sleeves. They didn't quite cover my wrists, but I'd  
thought that was normal. "Yes, Master Yoda, I will."

Qui-Gon was waiting for me when I arrived back at our shared quarters.  
"Was Master Yoda able to help you?" he asked me, not quite looking up.

I blinked at him. "How did you know where I was?"

He gave one of his enigmatic smiles. "I made an educated guess."

"Ah." I waited until his back was turned to roll my eyes at him.  
"Yes, he was quite helpful."

"And?"

"No educated guesses, Master?" I grinned at him. "Master Yoda, in  
his infinite Jedi wisdom, told me that I was outgrowing my clothes."

"Is that all?"

"No, but I must meditate on the rest."

"Very well." Qui-Gon, knowing better than to push me for more  
answers, simply nodded.

Arranging my robes around me as I knelt, I settled into the standard  
meditation posture. I knew I would not find complete peace, not  
today, but there were questions at the back of my mind: where I the  
dream-future was, and why I was there, and whom I was with.

And, perhaps more immediate a concern, why Yoda had showed sorrow.  
Surely, knowledge of the future was not something to grieve over.  
Unless, of course, the being to whom I would be attracted was somehow  
repulsive-- one of the Hutts, say. The thought made me smile.

What I saw would be the future.

And it would be good.

* * *

  


  


#### Act II: Morning

Five years later  


* * *

  


"Padawan."

The word startled me out of a meditation that had lasted almost the  
entire afternoon. I looked up at Qui-Gon, whose hand rested easily on  
my shoulder. "Yes, Master?"

"It is time for supper. Unless you would prefer to continue  
meditating...?"

"No. I should eat." I stood, rubbing the back of my neck. "Besides,  
I doubt I would find further answers in meditation."

Qui-Gon nodded at me, a slight smile gracing his lips. "That is often  
the way of things."

"Often," I murmured, and followed him in to the common room. We ate  
dinner in our rooms more times than not. Sometimes I missed the group  
companionship of the dining halls, but tonight I was relieved to be  
pretty much alone. I had a lot of thought to do...

...and most of it involved Qui-Gon.

The meal tonight consisted of strips of galaka root cooked in a wine  
sauce. Galaka was one of my favourite foods, especially cooked as he  
did it. Normally I would be attacking it with all the fervor of a  
starved Wookie. But tonight, I found myself pushing the strips around  
on my plate, watching my Master more than my food.

Qui-Gon was not blind. Halfway through his own plate, he looked up at  
me. "Is something bothering you, Padawan?"

I hesitated a moment before answering. "I...my meditations this  
afternoon led me to an inescapable conclusion."

He arched an eyebrow. "From your expression, I'd say the conclusion  
was that the world will end in the next two days." His voice was  
grave, but I had come to recognize his style of solemn teasing.

"No," I responded as lightly as I could, "only my state of mind and  
emotional well-being."

"Is that all." He nodded, as if unconcerned, but I could see the  
worry in his eyes. "Care to talk about it?"

I hesitated even longer. I didn't have the courage to just outright  
say /Master, I love you, I want you, will you have me?/, but on the  
other hand the situation was not likely to resolve if I sat  
quietly. Perhaps I could get his advice in a more roundabout way.  
"There's, ah, someone I desire." I looked carefully at my plate, at  
the cooling galaka. "I want to approach them, but...I don't know if I  
should."

"Is anything directly stopping you?"

"No, just my own worries. I'm not...I don't want to...I'm not sure if  
the relationship will have...difficulties."

He gave a brief flash of a smile. "Relationships always have  
difficulties of some sort, Padawan." The smile was gone from his  
lips, but it still lurked in the brightness of his eyes. "Does she  
know of your interest?"

"It's not a she," I said carefully, "and no; or at any rate, I haven't  
told him. I didn't want to, until I was more confident in the  
outcome."

Qui-Gon, his own galaka forgotten, leaned forward, arms crossed on the  
table, brow slightly furrowed. It was a typical thinking posture for  
him, as if this were a theoretical philosophy problem we were  
discussing. "Is he over the age of consent?"

I nearly smiled at that. "I should think so, yes."

Qui-Gon nodded slowly. "Is he in a relationship already?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Is he human, or will there be a species compatibility issue?"

"He's human. That, or he has an excellent disguise."

"Is he aware of the restrictions of a Jedi, that you are subject to?"

A laugh nearly bubbled up, but it would have been inappropriate. "I  
would be quite surprised if he were not."

Qui-Gon shrugged. "I see no difficulty, then." He relaxed again,  
sitting back and taking another bite of his galaka. "Why were you  
concerned?"

"Because..." I _didn't_ have to answer, I reminded myself; but a part  
of me, daring me to jump off the cliff to see whether I could fly,  
urged me to speak. "Because he is my Master."

Absolute silence met my comment. Qui-Gon had frozen mid-chew, his  
entire body as still as a statue, but otherwise he gave no sign of  
shock or surprise. Finally, slowly, he began to chew again.

From the look in his eyes, I knew he would start speaking as soon as  
the bite of galaka was swallowed. "I know what you're going to say,"  
I continued hurriedly, wanting to speak first. "I know it is common  
for a Padawan to desire his Master. I know that it is easy for one  
person, especially young and easily influenced, to feel a growing, if  
false, feeling of attraction to a positive authority with whom he  
spends large amounts of time. But this is _not_ just some passing  
infatuation; it is more than that, far more. It is a _real_ desire.  
And..."

I hesitated. Qui-Gon had not reacted to my words; the Jedi Master  
mask was very much in place. I tried to imagine the disapproval the  
mask was hiding, and could feel my resolve crumbling. "...and I speak  
out of turn," I continued miserably. "If you do not return my  
feelings, or do not desire a relationship with me, or...or find me in  
some way lacking, or abhorrent...I..."

Qui-Gon broke into sudden laughter. "Abhorrent? _Lacking_?"

I could feel myself flushing. "Master, I apologise, I..."

"No." He was suddenly serious again; the smile that played on the  
corners of his lips was sympathetic, not mocking. "Padawan--  
Obi-Wan-- it is I who should apologise. It was inappropriate for me  
to laugh. It's just..."

I closed my eyes, waiting for the words to fall. Waiting for him to  
tell me that he would never desire me, never want me in the way I  
wanted him; waiting for him to tell me to banish the thoughts and  
needs I had.

"...if you only _knew_ how long I've waited for this..."

"Master?" My eyes flew open; surely I had heard wrong. My  
expression, disbelief and shock, was likely ludicrous, but to his  
credit he did not laugh. Completely somber, he stood, walking around  
the table to stand before me.

"You are my life, Obi-Wan. If it were my choice alone, I would have  
approached you long before this. But I could not have lived with the  
answer; for had you said yes, I never would be sure whether you truly  
felt for me, or whether you answered as you felt obligated to."

"Obligated," I echoed, not quite understanding.

"A Padawan will often do as his Master tells him, even if it runs  
contrary to what he wants for himself." A slight smile lit his  
eyes. "Selfish as I am, if I ever had your love I wanted it for  
myself, not for the fearsome Master I claim to be."

"Oh..." I couldn't think of more to say. Perhaps there was nothing I  
needed to say. His hands grasped my shoulders gently, guiding me up.  
Even with me standing, he was taller than I was-- always would be, I  
suspected-- so it was he that made the first move, dipping his head,  
mouth seeking mine.

Kissing him was like nothing I had known. I had kissed before, who  
hadn't? but the crude, self-conscious fumblings of two Padawans in the  
shadowed corners of an empty room or hallway could not compare to  
this. Could not compare to the electricity that burned between  
us. His mouth was soft and pliant, molding to my own, and the moment  
seemed to go on forever. Sweet fire burned in my veins, curling  
around my heart and groin.

I pulled away slightly, dizzy from the intensity of  
feeling. "Master--" I gasped; but he put one finger lightly against my  
mouth, silencing me.

"No 'Master'," he said quietly. "Out there," with a nod of his head  
towards the door, "I am your Master; but in here, I am Qui-Gon. No  
more, no less."

I opened my lips and captured the tip of his finger, suckling  
gently. The skin around his eyes tightened, and he looked almost  
startled. When I released his finger, I couldn't stop a smile.  
"Qui-Gon, then."

Solemnly he traced the outside of my face, dipping down under the jaw  
to run down my neck, and stopping when his fingers met the cloth of my  
overtunic. "My Obi-Wan."

I mirrored his gesture, though I had to stretch up a bit more than he  
did. "Is this a dream?" I murmured, almost to myself.

"No dream," he assured me.

"No dream," I repeated. My breath caught in my throat as the reality  
of what was happening rushed in on me like a tidal wave. I flung my  
arms around him, hugging him tightly and burying my face in the warmth  
of his tunic. Through the fabric I could hear the muffled thump of  
his heartbeat. "I love you, I love you," I whispered, and he stroked  
the back of my head soothingly.

* * *

If this _was_ a dream, I decided, I might as well take full advantage  
of it before I woke alone in my bed. "I want you," I said, and pulled  
back. "Now. Please?" My fingers fumbled at the clasp of his belt,  
trying too fast to disrobe him.

He captured my hands in his, holding them immobile. "Easy, Obi-Wan,"  
he said, eyes shining as he looked at me. "We have all the time in  
the world for this."

I took a deep shuddering breath, knowing he was right. All the time  
in the world. "All right," I said, and then managed an innocent  
smile. "I can't say that I have ever done this sort of thing before.  
How would you suggest we start?"

"With this," he said, leaning in for another kiss. It was a short  
fierce one, and then he was trailing a series of quick kisses along my  
jaw, until his mouth closed over my earlobe.

"Oh..."

His arm slipped around me, catching me as my legs started to give  
way. "Seduction," he said, laughing silently. "It is a useful art,  
don't you think?" And again he suckled on my ear, teeth scraping ever  
so lightly over flesh.

"Oh," I said again. My part of the dialogue seemed inane at this  
point, but I couldn't think of any sort of rational  
conversation. "I...oh."

"Care to try?" he whispered, and pulled back. He was smiling, almost  
mockingly.

For answer I leaped onto him, locking my legs around his hips. This  
brought my face in range with his, and I nuzzled at him. There was a  
spot under the point of his jaw where the bristle of beard faded into  
softer, smoother skin. I licked that spot tentatively, and smiled at  
the shudder that ran through him. "Am I doing all right?" My voice  
was tinged with mischievous laughter.

"Yes--" He broke off abruptly as I sucked hard at that spot. His  
head tilted back, allowing me better access. "Nice." He sounded  
almost strangled.

"Just nice?" I mock-pouted at him. "I suppose I shall have to try  
harder, then."

His mouth twitched with a smile. "You could."

I twined both my hands in his hair, holding him relatively still while  
I mapped his face with my mouth and tongue. There was the roughness  
of the beard along his jaw, the ridge of his cheekbone, the silkiness  
of the skin at the corners of his eyes, the arc of his eyebrow. I  
followed an invisible path down his nose, nipping gently at the tip  
before diving once more into the curves of his lips.

Any doubt I might have had about the sincerity of his feelings towards  
me was erased with the hungry passion with which he returned my  
kisses. I could feel one of his hands cradling the back of my neck,  
and the contact felt like electricity. "My Obi-Wan..." he murmured  
against my mouth

"Always yours." I hopped back down to the floor and tugged at his  
tunics. "Off."

He smiled. "As you wish."

It seemed to take forever for both of us to get our clothes off, but  
couldn't in reality have been very long; and then we were standing,  
flesh to hot naked flesh, with the air whispering cooler around us. I  
couldn't keep myself from touching him, kissing him, marveling at the  
sensations. I'd had fantasies about this... but they felt so empty in  
comparison.

"Want you," I said. Our erections brushed, a tantalizing friction,  
but I wanted more. Needed more. "Please?"

He groaned and took one of my hands in his, sucking at the knuckles.  
"Could I say no?" he said, a hoarse whisper that needed no answer.  
"If you want me, I am yours."

"If?" I smiled, reaching my free hand up to pull his head down.  
"Want you," I repeated firmly, and stretched up to kiss him.

"Want you," he echoed, and a slow smile played across his lips. "Go  
lie down," he told me, nodding his head towards the bedroom. "There's  
something I need to get."

Like a good Padawan, I obeyed without question, though my hands felt  
empty without a Qui-Gon to touch. But the bed was better suited to  
the activities I had in mind; so I lay down, stretching out on my back  
with my hands clasped behind my head, and closed my eyes to wait.

Even with my eyes closed, though, I could sense when he came in. He  
was quiet, but the Force pricked at my skin with his proximity. Then  
the bed bent with his weight. I stayed still, waiting for him to move  
or speak.

What touched me first, though, was neither skin nor mouth, but a thin  
trail of warm, thick liquid that ran from my breastbone down the  
center of my torso. My eyes flew open, and I saw Qui-Gon bending over  
me, dribbling oil from his fingers onto my stomach, expression as  
solemnly focused as if he were setting the crystals in his 'saber.

"Uh," I said, ever eloquent.

He looked up at me, still solemn but with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  
The oil, still dripping from his fingers, pooled in my navel. "Yes,  
Obi-Wan? Should I stop?"

I could do little more than stare at him, and the corners of his mouth  
lifted. "Very well," he murmured, and splayed both hands against my  
stomach.

I arched up into his touch as he ran his hands up my body, spreading  
the oil across my chest. My skin tingled in his wake. "Qui-Gon," I  
said, though it came out more of a gasp. "Oh...more..."

His hands ran smoothly back down my rib cage, down the flat of my  
stomach. Then, maddeningly, they ghosted over my hips and down the  
inside of my thighs, skipping the one place I needed contact.

"Qui-Gon..."

"Yes?" he said mildly.

"Guh." It was the best I could manage.

"Guh?" he said again, still mildly, and dipped his head enough that  
the ends of his hair brushed my erection. It looked accidental. I  
knew it wasn't.

"Oh," I said, arching up, wanting more. "Please..."

He smiled, and ran the pad of one finger lightly up the underside of  
my penis. "Tell me what you want," he said softly.

I fought the overload of sensations enough to speak. "Want..." His  
hand closed fully and firmly over my erection, slicking it with the  
oil, and I momentarily forgot how to breathe. "Oh."

"Tell me." His hand moved up and down, a warm necessary friction.

"I..." It was too much. Him, there, with me, doing what I had never  
dared ask him for-- Even Jedi control wasn't enough. Eyes closed,  
muscles trembling, I soared to the edge and over, thrusting again and  
again into his hand.

"Oh," I said, when I remembered again how to speak. "That was..."  
Words eluded me. "Oh. More? Please?"

He laughed and leaned in to kiss me. His hair cascaded around our  
faces, softly tickling my cheeks and ears. I loved his hair; soft and  
long, it was so much better suited to him than my own short Padawan  
cut was to me.

For that matter, I loved everything about him.

"We can do more," he said, nuzzling against my neck. "What do you  
want?"

"You," I said, running one hand through his hair. "Want you."

"And you shall have me." He kissed lightly at the hollow of my neck  
where the collarbones met, then tilted his head so that the beard  
rubbed against my skin. I arched up against him. He lifted my hips  
more, pulling me up. One of his hands slipped underneath, and a  
single oil-smoothed finger hesitated at the entrance to my anus.

"Please," I whispered, trying to thrust against the finger, and with  
the slightest of smiles he entered me.

It was an odd feeling, a full, welcome invasion that felt somehow  
Right. One finger, then two, then three, each slick with oil and  
Force and my own seed. And then something else-- larger, blunter,  
hotter-- nudged at the entrance.

"Are you certain you want this?" His voice was tense with the strain  
of holding back.

"Yes," I said. I had never felt more certain in my life.

"Love you." The sentiment echoed clearly in his eyes.

"Always."

And he thrust.

There was discomfort, a feeling of tight fullness, but I didn't care.  
I couldn't care. He glided out and in again, smooth long strokes, and  
I met him thrust for thrust. Electric fire burned through my body,  
setting every nerve alight with the sensation. The strokes grew  
shorter, faster, harder; and then Qui-Gon came, crying my name,  
pumping fiercely into me, blazing his love in the Force. It was  
glorious.

That night, we slept curled in each other's arms. It wasn't the first  
time we had shared a bed-- mission circumstances often forced us  
together-- but it was the first time we had done so willingly, as  
lovers. I fell asleep lulled by his heartbeat and the warmth of his  
arms.

* * *

And so I dream.

It is the same dream as five years before, only sharper. I can see  
that the man whose head I am cradling in my lap is Qui-Gon, far older  
but still recognizable. Nothing else has changed from the dreams  
before: I still am old, I still love him, I still adore him, I still  
weep silently at his death, and I still know I will die.

* * *

I half-woke, Qui-Gon asleep next to me. I snuggled closer, using one  
of his arms as a pillow. One of my hands was resting on his chest,  
and I could feel the easy swell of his breathing.

If this truly were a Jedi deathdream, that boded only well; for though  
we would die, as all men died, it would not be for a long while, and  
the two of us would be together. And if it were not...

Well, then. If it were not a deathdream, only a product of my  
desires, what did it matter? Unless one of us were to die, we would  
be together. And as the Force allowed presence after death, we would  
be together forever.

Content, I slept.

* * *

  


  


#### Act III: Noon

Five years later  


* * *

  


"Master Jedi," someone said, breaking me out of a heavy sleep.  
Reluctantly I blinked myself awake. One of the crew of the transport  
stood respectfully over me, hands clasped behind her back. "Master  
Jedi, sir?"

I thought about reminding her that I was not a Master yet; thought  
about telling her that I did not deserve the honor of a 'sir'. But  
the argument would do nothing. She, like so many others I  
encountered, would smile and nod and continue regardless to call me  
Master, if only because I was a Jedi. I settled for a somewhat cranky  
"Yes?"

"We're approaching Coruscant, sir. You said to let you know."

"Yes. Thank you." I rubbed my head. This mission had not allowed me  
enough sleep, even though I needed little, and the effects were  
catching up to me. "Notify the Jedi Temple of our arrival, and alert  
the Healers. We will need them on arrival."

"Yes, sir." She bowed and left. I sat for a moment on the small bunk  
they had provided, half-wishing I could have stayed asleep for a while  
longer. If only I could make the universe stop for a day or so while  
I rested... Time marched on, though, despite wishes to the contrary.  
And so, with a sigh of regret, I stood and crossed the room to the  
other bunk.

"Master," I said softly.

Qui-Gon, far too pale for my liking, stirred at my voice. His mouth  
opened hesitantly. I sat at his side and put one finger lightly on  
his lips.

"Don't speak." My hand was trembling more than I would have liked, so  
I pulled back and tucked it into my sleeves again. "We're almost at  
Coruscant. Healers should be meeting us when we land, and they will  
take care of you."

He lifted a hand to ghost lightly along the side of my face.  
"Obi-Wan," he whispered. His voice was rough with pain and despair,  
and my heart constricted.

I wouldn't cry. Not in front of him. "It will be all right, Master.  
I promise." I smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

The shift from hyperspace was audible; the pitch of the ship's engines  
changed, and a vibration ran through the floor and was quickly damped.  
Qui-Gon's face tightened with pain. "Almost home," I murmured. "Stay  
with me, Qui-Gon."

The wound he had gained battling the Sith was not immediately fatal.  
My own meager Healing training, the slightly backwater medical centers  
on Naboo, and the will of the Force had kept him alive this long. But  
I could not say with certainty that even the Jedi Healers would be  
able to--

No. He would not die. I would not let him.

Two Healers were waiting for us at the landing pad, along with an  
antigrav stretcher. Silent except for cryptic comments to each other,  
they loaded Qui-Gon onto the stretcher and took him off to the  
Temple's primary medical bay. I paced alongside, one hand on the  
stretcher.

It wasn't until we reached the door of the medical bay that the  
Healers spoke to me. "You'll have to leave now," one said, politely  
but firmly.

"No," I said, equally firmly and almost as politely.

The other shook her head. "It is not procedure for--"

"Damn your _procedure_ ," I said, low and dangerous. The fragile hold  
I had on my temper was quickly slipping. "This is my Master, and he  
is also my lover. I will not sit by and _wait_ while he dies without  
me. I will not allow myself to be shunted aside. He is my life, and  
I am his. I will be there. Do you understand?"

The Healers glanced at each other, giving no sign of relenting. "I  
understand your concerns, sir, but--"

"No buts," I interrupted. Fury at their inflexibility surged through  
me; I checked it just short of reaching for my lightsaber. "It will  
be as I say."

They glanced at each other. "We cannot allow that."

I started to argue more, but a murmur from Qui-Gon caught my  
attention. He was awake again, and had lifted one hand to hold the  
sleeve of my robes. "Obi-Wan," he whispered, so low I could barely  
hear him. "It will be all right, remember?" A smile crooked his  
lips. "Go. Leave them be to do their work." His eyes fluttered  
closed again. "I have faith...that you will be here...when I am  
released."

Some of my anger faded at his words. "Always." I bent down to kiss  
his forehead, then whispered, "Love you," so that the Healers would  
not hear. When I straightened, they took him inside, and I let them.

Sensing a presence behind me, I turned, one hand flying to my 'saber  
out of habit and overstrained nerves. Anakin, Qui-Gon's latest  
unofficial adoptee, stood watching me with large eyes, and did not  
flinch back.

"I followed you," he said in a low voice. "Sorry. I didn't know what  
else to do. I couldn't stay on the ship, 'cause it needed to leave,  
and I don't know my way around here yet."

"It is all right." I knelt and held out a hand. Hesitantly, he came  
towards me, slipping his small arms around my shoulders. "I apologise  
for forgetting about you, Anakin. I had more pressing needs."

"Yeah." His arms tightened in what could have been a hug. "Will  
Master Qui-Gon live?"

"I hope so."

"You care for him, don't you?" His bright blue eyes stared into mine,  
as if he could search my soul.

"He is my Master and my friend. And more than that, he is..." I  
sighed, trying to figure out how to explain it best. "He is someone  
that I would live for, and die for, and...I think I would give  
everything I am, if he asked. Even if he didn't."

"I think I understand, Master Obi-Wan, sir," Anakin said solemnly.

I gave him a quick hug, then stood up. "Come. I should show you  
where our rooms are, before I am called to report to the Council."

He bounced with excitement. "Am I staying with you and Master  
Qui-Gon?"

"For now." I smiled at his stifled yelp of joy. "And once you have  
an official Master, you will be living with them until you are a  
Knight."

"What if they don't let me be a Jedi?"

I looked down at him, at the earnest expression on his young face.  
"They will," I promised. "Qui-Gon believed in you, and I...I can do  
no less. And we are both stubborn. You _will_ be a Jedi."

"I hope so," he said with a wistful sigh.

Qui-Gon and I had a fairly normal master-padawan suite-- two bedrooms,  
with a common room between them, and a shared kitchen. It had been a  
long time since we had used the separate bedrooms, but we had never  
bothered to ask for a reassignment of rooms. The extra space was  
nice. Now, it meant that Anakin had somewhere to stay until we  
out-stubborned the Council.

I stayed with him for what was left of the day, more to distract  
myself from Qui-Gon's condition than to make sure Anakin stayed out of  
trouble. He talked a lot, mostly about his life on Tatooine. I could  
hear the undercurrent of loneliness as well as the surface  
cheerfulness of his words. And so, when, in the privacy of our rooms,  
he stopped mid-anecdote and very visibly fought tears, I was ready.

"Anakin." I touched his shoulder; he twitched away, and then flung  
himself against me, shaking with the effort of not crying. "Ani, it's  
all right to miss your home. It's okay to feel lonely. I know it  
hurts..."

"What would you know about it?" He looked up at me with an anger I  
didn't expect. "You aren't lonely. You have Qui-Gon."

"So do you." Possibly more than I did, which was an unwelcome  
possibility. There was a feeling of uneasiness in my mind, of  
wrongness, beginning to lurk just beyond the areas that I could define  
with rational thought. Putting that aside for later, I continued:  
"Master Qui-Gon likes you, and wants you to succeed. Do you know that  
when I was your age-- older by a few years-- he did not want me as his  
Padawan?" Anakin shook his head, and I forced a smile. "So if I have  
come this far with him, you will go farther. You, after all, are  
starting out on Qui-Gon's good side."

"You think so?" Without waiting for an answer, the boy snuggled  
against me.

"Yes," I said. The worst part was knowing that I could be speaking  
truth, not just platitudes to comfort a lonely boy. Perhaps I was  
only a phase for Qui-Gon; perhaps he considered it time to move on.

That night, I did not sleep well, afraid of the truths my dreams would  
bring.

* * *

Most of the following day I spent before the Council, telling and  
re-telling my account of the events on Naboo. The Council's questions  
focused on what was for us the final fight. Yes, I shared my Master's  
belief that the warrior we fought was a Sith. Yes, he was there for a  
reason, not just a chance meeting. No, I did not know his identity.  
Yes, I was certain that he was dead, even though I did not see a body  
at the end. Yes, he fought with a lightsaber-- double-sided (and that  
announcement sent the Council into several minutes of whispering among  
themselves).

Again and again we went over the details, until a headache throbbed  
dully behind my eyes, until I felt almost physically sick. I answered  
the Council's probes with quiet, emotionless statements, hiding what I  
felt. He was Sith because he did not fight quite like a Jedi, and  
because the touches I got of his mind were like cold, dark slime. He  
was either the same warrior as the one that attacked Qui-Gon on  
Tatooine, or a clone. That, along with the fact that he was more  
intent on killing us than stopping the Queen, reinforced my belief  
that he was there for us alone.

Finally, the Council's questions ceased, and they talked among  
themselves. I stared out the window at the endless patterns of air  
traffic flowing between Coruscant's buildings, not thinking, just  
letting my mind drift. Yoda's sharp "Kenobi!" brought me back to the  
present.

"Yes, Master," I said, turning my attention back to the Council.  
Focus proved a problem, but I gave it a good effort. Collapsing with  
exhaustion could wait until I was alone.

Yoda opened his mouth to answer, but my comm unit sounded,  
interrupting him. I thumbed it off without answering. A smile  
creased Yoda's already wrinkled face. "Finished, we are. We will  
discuss your report further, but present you need not be."

It was a clear dismissal. I sketched a short bow but, instead of  
leaving, stepped forward. "There is one more thing I wish to discuss,  
Master Yoda."

Before I could continue, my comm unit sounded again. I held up one  
hand to the Council, half-turned away, and answered.

"Master Obi-Wan," Anakin said in a low urgent voice. "I'm sorry to  
bother you..."

"I am with the Council, Anakin," I said, only barely curbing my  
irritation. "Can this wait?"

"The Healers want to talk to you," he said, then added hesitantly:  
"Master Qui-Gon wants to talk to you, too."

A wave of dizziness rushed over me. "Thank you, Ani," I managed, and  
turned back to the Council. "If you will excuse me," I said with  
another quick bow that nearly cost me my balance, "I need to attend to  
my Master."

"Of course," Mace Windu said with a slight smile. "If you still need  
to speak with us, we will convene tomorrow at the same time."

I nodded, and left as the Council chambers as quickly as I could  
without seeming to hurry.

Questions and worries chased each other around in my mind. Qui-Gon  
wanted to speak to me? He should not have been out of bacta yet;  
injuries like his took several days to heal. Was he close enough to  
dying that they decided the bacta would be no use?

As I entered the medical bay, Qui-Gon was indeed out of bacta. More  
than that, he was sitting up on one of the beds. I skidded to a halt  
and blinked at him. "Master?"

He gave me a small smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. The  
dizziness I was feeling slowly receded at the sight of him, alive.  
"Obi-Wan," he said gravely.

The Healers had allowed him a thin pair of leggings, but his upper  
body was completely bare. Where the wound had been, there now was  
only a scar, the shiny pink of a newly healed wound. I stared, then  
hesitantly reached out to touch it. The skin felt odd under my  
fingers, somehow simultaneously smooth and wrinkled. Qui-Gon did not  
flinch at my touch.

"How?" I whispered, looking up at him in confusion.

"If I may explain, Jedi Kenobi," someone said from behind me. I  
turned; it was a young dark-haired human, in the off-white and yellow  
robes of a mind-Healer.

"Please," I said. " _Someone_ should."

Qui-Gon smiled at the petulance in my voice, but he said nothing. I  
kept my hand over the scar, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of his  
heartbeat.

"Healer Tef'Kar," the mind-Healer said by way of introduction, bowing  
his head at me. "The emergency Healers called me in a few hours ago,  
when they discovered that his healing was progressing at an unusual  
rate. Unusual, but explainable. I have just finished an examination  
confirming our suspicions that Jedi Jinn has a newly activated  
lifebond. This bond has allowed him to heal faster than he otherwise  
would have."

"A lifebond?" My heart leapt, but I swooped as quickly into  
disappointment. It could not be with me, if it was only a new bond.  
There was only one real explanation. I looked up at Qui-Gon, careful  
to hide my emotion. "Anakin?"

"What?" He stared at me for a moment before the confusion in his eyes  
cleared. "No. You, not Anakin, not anyone else. You are my life,  
and have always been." One of his hands reached up, brushing steadily  
against my cheek. "The Force may have chosen Anakin, and I must act  
accordingly; but I chose _you_ , Obi-Wan. Never forget that."

The touch of his hand felt good. I sat on the bed next to him,  
leaning against him, not caring that it might be unseemly for two Jedi  
to cuddle. "Healer, if I may ask-- we have been close for years. Why  
did the lifebond activate only now?"

"Who can explain the workings of the Force?" the Healer said with a  
wry smile. "I was allowed access to your written report, Jedi Kenobi,  
for the mission you just returned from. As I understand it, Jedi Jinn  
was close to death, and you healed him?"

"Only slightly." I felt embarrassed, and wasn't quite sure why.  
Healing in the field of battle was not in any way forbidden,  
especially when no Force-adept Healers were around, but it was not  
something that was encouraged. "I was afraid that if I did nothing,  
he would die."

Qui-Gon stiffened slightly. Tef'Kar looked from him to me. "Perhaps.  
I can't say what would have happened. But what you did was not  
slight, and it gave sufficient energy to activate the lifebond."

"I see." I closed my eyes. The physical discomfort I had felt in the  
Council chambers was mostly gone, only an echo of what it had been. I  
felt I could easily stay there forever, holding Qui-Gon and being held  
by him, with no other concerns or obligations. "Is there anything  
else we should know, Healer?"

"Only that your lives are closely connected. If one of you is hurt,  
the other will know. If one of you dies..."

"The other one will die," I finished, and Tef'Kar nodded.

"But that won't be for a long time," I murmured in Qui-Gon's ear,  
smiling.

He turned his head to nuzzle at me. "How do you know?" he murmured  
back.

"Tell you later." I looked back up at Tef'Kar, who was waiting  
patiently. "Anything else?"

"Would it be possible for you and Jedi Jinn to stay overnight for  
observation?" the Healer asked. "This would be precaution only.  
There seem to be no imminent problems; but if the bond is unstable,  
you will need prompt attention."

"I could stay," I said quietly. I had never liked the medical bays,  
but I did not want to risk having an unstable bond destroy us both.

"Seeing as I should properly still be in bacta," Qui-Gon said wryly,  
"there is no loss to my staying."

"Good." Tef'Kar smiled and half-bowed. "I apologise in advance for  
the invasion of your privacy, but we cannot monitor you from too far a  
distance. This is for safety alone, and we will not be listening to  
or recording any conversations you may have. There will be a 'droid  
present if there are any physical medical emergencies. A mind-Healer  
will be in the next room at all times." With another smile, he left.

There was a long silence. I looked at Qui-Gon, and he looked at me.

"So," I said at last. "A lifebond."

"So it would seem."

I sighed and flopped backwards, lying crosswise on the bed. "How long  
have you known?"

"Not much longer than you. They hauled me out of bacta and informed  
me that I had a lifebond." He shrugged. "I can't say that it is  
unwelcome news."

I smiled. "Neither can I, Master."

"Qui-Gon," he reminded me, leaning in for a kiss.

Our lips met, and it was like touching lightning. A thousand times  
more powerful than any of our kisses had been, it burned through my  
entire body. We pulled apart after a few seconds, and Qui-Gon dropped  
shaking to lie beside me.

"Well," he said. "That was interesting."

With one finger I traced light patterns along his chest. I could feel  
those patterns echoed on my own skin, like ghost-fingers playing with  
me. "The bond?" I ventured. "Providing a feedback loop between the  
two of us; so that we both feel what either feels?"

"That makes sense." He captured my hand, pinning it against the  
warmth of his body. "It will take some getting used to, though."

"I'm sure we can manage that." I snuggled closer, draping one arm  
across him. I was content just to be near him; after the stresses of  
Naboo and the Council, this was close to paradise. It was also close  
to sending me to sleep, but I did not want to sleep. Not right now,  
when a Master I had come close to losing was alive and bonded to me.

* * *

"So," Qui-Gon said with a kiss to the top of my head. "It's later."

"Hmm?"

"You said you would tell me later, how you knew that we would not die  
for a long time."

"Oh. That." I smiled and closed my eyes. "It is a dream I have. We  
are both old when we die, you and I; and we are together."

Qui-Gon stroked my hair. I could feel the short spikes of the Padawan  
cut spring back from beneath his fingers. "And you are certain of  
this?"

"Not certain enough to know that you cannot die." I felt again the  
same queasy rush of shock and dizziness that I had felt seeing him  
impaled on the Sith's saber. Qui-Gon's arms tightened around me.

"I'm here, Obi-Wan, love," he said quietly. "I'm alive. It's all  
right."

"I know." I tried to force myself back to calmness. "It's  
just... What I see in the dream is so peaceful, so beautiful, that it  
frightens me when it may not come true." I shook my head slightly.  
"I know that fear is not something a Jedi admits to; but I cannot  
escape from what I feel."

"And you should not." He kissed my forehead. "Obi-Wan, a Jedi must  
focus on his duty to the galaxy and to life, but that does not mean  
that he should have no more feeling than a 'droid. You are enough of  
a Jedi that you will put your fears behind you and act when you must.  
That is all that is needed. To want peace, when your duties are  
finished, is no crime."

"I suppose," I said, and then smiled. "You're the one injured; should  
it not be I that is comforting you, not the other way around?"

"Your presence comforts me. It is enough" One finger went under my  
chin, tilting my head to look at him. "You are my life, Obi-Wan, and  
always will be."

His face was close enough that my body yearned to close the gap and  
kiss him. "Should we try this again," I asked hoarsely, "now that we  
know what to expect?"

A smile played along his lips. "What, and risk having the Healers  
come running in, afraid something is wrong?"

"If that is what happens, then let it be."

The smile widened. "As you wish," he said, and lowered his head  
again.

This time, with both of us mentally prepared for what would happen,  
the sensations were not as overwhelming. It was intense still,  
though, and I could feel an echo through the bond. His tongue pushed  
against mine, a sweet and insistent pressure. I pressed closer,  
hungry, trying to get more of myself in contact with him.

I moaned softly when he pulled back. He pressed his cheek against my  
forehead. "Don't rush it, Obi-Wan."

"No...of course not." I sighed. "Master knows best."

"Qui-Gon." He stroked my hair. "Not Master, remember?"

"You're still my Master. For now." I rolled over to sprawl on my  
back. "Speaking of which, we should tell Anakin where we are."

"I took care of that."

"You did?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "While I was waiting for you to come from the  
Council, I arranged for Master yMaru to watch Anakin for the night."

"Ah." I smiled. "At least one of us is thinking; I fear that when it  
is left up to me, he feels neglected."

"And you?" He looked intently at me. "I have not spent complete  
attention to you lately."

"A Jedi's duty comes first," I said. "You are a Jedi if nothing  
else."

"I am also the lover-- and bondmate-- of a man named Obi-Wan Kenobi."

"Qui-Gon." I leaned in for a quick kiss. "You give your heart to  
everything you do. If that is given to your duty as well as to me, I  
cannot complain."

"You're getting sentimental."

I smiled and kissed the tip of his nose. "You should rest."

"I should?" he said, affecting surprise. One eyebrow raised. "When  
we could be doing so much together?"

"We have time." I nestled against him and closed my eyes, letting  
myself drift off in the security of his presence. "Sleep."

I was not surprised to have the deathdream again. Same as it always  
was, it somehow felt more certain, more real. More comforting. My  
heart felt calmer in the morning than it had for a long time.

The Healers wanted Qui-Gon to stay for a while longer, monitoring his  
injury and his mind. As the bond was stable, though, they freed me to  
talk to the Council, with a strict warning to come back at the  
slightest sign of danger.

The Council's high tower was far too familiar for me. On the way up,  
I briefly entertained the thought of renting rooms in the chambers,  
and smiled. My Master would be on the Council if he were more like a  
Proper Jedi, but the lack was not something he regretted. I could  
understand that easily. I was too active, too restless, to want to  
spend my time locked in a room.

"I greet the Council," I said, kneeling, "and apologise for the  
interruption yesterday."

"You may speak," Mace Windu said.

I stood up and clasped my hands behind my back. "In place of my  
Master, I wish to address the Council with regard to Anakin, the  
Tatooine boy."

They exchanged glances. "Decided, we have," Yoda said.

"And we ask you to reconsider."

Another round of glances, laden with meanings I could guess. Ki-Adi  
Mundi cleared his throat. "I suppose you share your  
Master's...belief...that this boy is the prophesied Chosen One." His  
voice was heavy with contempt

I shook my head. "What I believe is immaterial. It is not my place  
to interpret prophecy; I am not properly trained to speak definitely  
of future certainties. But whether or not Anakin is this mythical  
Chosen One, he is a boy with a strong connection to the Force. He  
will have a strong ability, even if he does not know how to use it.  
If he is not trained as a Jedi, I see one of three things happening."  
I started to pace.

"One, and by far the least dangerous possibility, is that he will one  
day overload; if the power of that turns outward, it could destroy a  
city or planet, and if it turns in, he would almost definitely go  
insane, if he did not die. Two, he will fall to the Dark Side, which  
is enough of a danger even for those of us who know to avoid it; with  
one such as he who is not aware that such temptation exists, it will  
be too easy for him to stray. The Force is a dangerous weapon in the  
hands of evil. And three...

"We know that there is another Sith out there. There are always two.  
If we killed the apprentice, there is a Master out there. If we  
killed the Master, there is likely an apprentice who will now become  
Master. Either way, he is looking for an apprentice. One such as  
Anakin would be a prime target. If we do not train him, the Sith  
will."

I took a few deep breaths. None of the Council said a word. I  
stopped pacing and stood with my hands clasped behind my back, facing  
them calmly. "I do not ask that Anakin be treated as a saviour. I do  
not ask that he be revered or worshipped. I ask only that he be  
trained, for the good of the galaxy as much as the good of one boy."

"There is much fear in him," Yoda said. "Dangerous, this is."

"Of course he is afraid. Anyone would be. He has powers he does not  
know how to control. He will be afraid until we teach him how to not  
be afraid." I shrugged. "I am only a Padawan, Masters. I do not  
have the right to order your actions. But as a Jedi I plead with you  
to make the right choice."

Mace Windu leaned over and whispered to Yoda, who nodded. "We will  
take your testimony under consideration," Windu said. He glanced  
again at Yoda. "There is one more matter we have reached a decision  
on. It is the decision of the Council that you should become a  
Knight."

I had to process the words several times before they made any sense.  
"Masters?" I said, confused. "I have not taken the Trials yet."

"It is our decision that the events on Naboo served the purpose of the  
Trials. You were able to perform your job under incredible stress,  
and faced the common fear of your Master's threatened death. It is  
sufficient. You have proven yourself."

Protests rose unspoken. I wanted to say that Naboo was not a test I  
had passed; I had flirted too closely to the Dark Side, and I could  
still feel it brushing against me. After my Master had fallen, my  
fuel had been anger, not calmness. I did not deserve Knighting. I  
did not deserve to be a Jedi.

But in the end, all I said was, "Yes, Masters." The protests  
remained, silent and heavy in my heart. Not speaking them was another  
strike against me, for it was pride winning out over truth. I bowed  
my head so that my feelings would not be evident to the Council.  
"Thank you."

"The ceremony will take place when Qui-Gon is well enough to  
participate," Windu said solemnly. "Congratulations."

Three days later, I was Knighted.

The ceremony was somehow shorter than I had expected, even though I  
had been to a few knightings in the past. The Council made an  
official pronouncement, and Master Yoda presented me with my  
lightsaber. Qui-Gon cut my Padawan braid, which he had that morning  
rebraided with white ribbons and green and gold beads, and handed it  
solemnly to me. I spent most of the ceremony watching Qui-Gon, and  
the bond sang with his love for me.

As happy as I was, as happy as I knew he was, I did not expect the  
events of that night. I did not expect to come out of the 'fresher to  
find Qui-Gon standing in the center of the bedroom, waiting for me,  
holding two thin collars.

"Master?" I stared at him, uncomprehending.

"I am not your Master, my Knight" he said, smiling. "Even out there."

"And these?" The two collars were different sizes, a delicate and  
flexible weaving of silver and topaz and a shimmering metal that  
fluctuated color in changing patterns. I touched one gently, half  
expecting it to shatter under my hand.

"I think you know," Qui-Gon said gently. And I did; although not  
every Jedi was bonded, I had seen the bonding collars often enough to  
recognize them.

Gravely, he set the smaller collar aside, and knelt in front of me  
with the other held up to me as an offering. His head was bowed, and  
his hair, completely unbound, fell around his face.

My hand was shaking as I took the collar. There were rituals to the  
bonding ceremony, and how the collar was handled was a significant  
part of it. Acceptance was not required, and there were ways of  
rejecting with honor and rejecting with offense.

I was not planning on rejecting.

I bent down. Gently, I swept his hair back from his neck, and slipped  
the collar around his neck. The ends latched invisibly together,  
forming a solid unbreakable circle. My fingers lingered, enjoying the  
feeling of the smooth warmth of his neck behind the cooler silver  
lattice.

"I love you," I whispered, and he looked up at me, a smile shining  
from his eyes. For a moment, nothing happened, nothing _could_  
happen; everything just _was_. And that moment was like standing in  
the center of a star, feeling the heat of his love warm my skin.

"You are my life and my soul." We both knew the ritual words, but  
somehow they had an infinite meaning coming from his lips. Qui-Gon  
stood and with gentle movements closed the other collar around my  
neck. I swallowed a few times, accustoming myself to the feeling.

"My heart..." I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to stay even. "And  
my own."

His fingers ran through my hair. It felt odd, surely as much to him  
as to me, to not have the Padawan braid there. As often as it had  
gotten in the way, I missed it, missed the gentle tugs he would give  
to it.

And then his lips met mine, and I forgot about the missing braid.

* * *

  


  


#### Act IV: Evening

Fifteen years later  


* * *

  


Qui-Gon took the long braid in his hand, fingering it gently. The  
knife in his left hand came up, glinting in the bright overhead  
lights, and with a quick motion he severed the braid.

Anakin lifted his head. Eyes glittering with pride looked  
unwaveringly at my former Master. With a smile he took the braid from  
Qui-Gon and stood.

"And so we welcome another Knight to our ranks," Qui-Gon said, as a  
closing to the ceremony. "Wear the responsibility well, Anakin of  
Tatooine."

I almost missed the flash of incomprehensible emotions that briefly  
overshadowed Anakin's smile. Qui-Gon, I was sure, had not noticed; he  
was too involved in happiness that another of his apprentices had  
become a Knight.

Anakin, I had to admit, was a fine-looking Knight, tall and straight  
with a perceptible power behind each movement. He was far more  
confident than the child we had brought to become a Jedi, so many  
years ago. It had been a long journey for him, time enough to  
overcome his fears.

I just hoped he truly had overcome them. It was always easier to bury  
fears and hide them deep inside, than to honestly face and defeat  
them.

Qui-Gon saw me, and his face lit up. "Obi-Wan!" Love surged warmly  
through the bond, welcoming me home as he had done so many times  
before. "You made it after all."

"The Brill are a stubborn people," I said, smiling. "But I managed to  
persuade them to cooperate, at least temporarily. I would not want to  
miss this." I bowed to Anakin, who was lurking behind Qui-Gon.  
"Congratulations, Knight."

He smiled, but it was not echoed in his eyes as Qui-Gon's always had  
been. The smile was a mask, little more. "You gave me quite a  
reputation to live up to, Knight Kenobi," he said easily, and I tried  
not to read malice into his words. "I can't count the number of times  
I heard about your exploits."

"And, I am sure, my misdeeds," I said with a glance at Qui-Gon. He  
gave me a typical Serene Jedi Master smile, but I could see the  
amusement in his eyes. "I apologise for the legacy, Anakin. If I had  
known you would be my Master's next Padawan, I would have tried my  
hardest to be a mediocre predecessor for you."

Anakin laughed. "No need to apologise. I was proud to be compared to  
the great Obi-Wan Kenobi."

His tone was light, but the words sounded false, like scripted lines  
he had memorized. Or perhaps I had simply not spent enough time with  
him over the past few years to know what was real for him. I shook  
away the unease that was lurking behind me. Anakin would not have  
passed his Trials if he were seriously unbalanced, if his Jedi nature  
was no more than a mask. I smiled at him. "You will make your own  
name in the ranks of the Jedi, I am sure."

"I mean to." Abruptly, he gave a wide grin, almost childish in its  
honesty. Gaze fixed on some point behind me, he waved one arm.  
"Mitak! Or-elK! Lem! Over here!"

I turned to see a group of three Jedi hurrying towards us. "Friends  
of Anakin," Qui-Gon explained in a low murmur to me. He was standing  
close behind me, and his mouth was tantalizingly close to my ear.

"I gathered that," I murmured back, watching the three Jedi crowd  
around Anakin, laughing and chattering at top speed. "Is it safe to  
assume that they will keep Anakin occupied for a while?"

Qui-Gon leaned in for a quick kiss. "Fairly safe. Did you have any  
plans?"

"Only ones that involve you."

"It has been too long, hasn't it?" he asked ruefully.

"We are both busy, my Qui-Gon. And as I am no longer your Padawan, we  
are rarely busy together."

He wrapped his arms around me. "I would rather have you as a partner  
on missions than any other; but Anakin has been a worthy Padawan."

"That is perhaps because you are more than worthy as a Master."

"Or perhaps I've just been lucky." He sighed. "I have missed you,  
Obi-Wan."

"And I you. But we are together now."

"Indeed." He smiled and nipped discreetly at my ear. "Shall we  
continue this talk in my bedroom?"

"Talk?" I said innocently.

"Behave, Obi-Wan love. We are in public." Stepping away from me, he  
excused himself, getting a quick hug from Anakin before the new Knight  
turned back to his friends.

"Ah, the fickleness of youth," Qui-Gon said, laughing, as we left.  
"The moment he is Knighted, he has no more need for his Master."

"Not all Padawans are like that."

"No, but I think you are unique."

"Of course I am." I raised an eyebrow at him. "And I have a unique  
Master."

Qui-Gon smiled, and palmed open the door to his rooms. Without  
needing to ask, he went to the small cooking area to make tea. I  
spent the time looking around the common room, which was far neater  
than the last time I had seen it. Most of what was lying around  
seemed to be Qui-Gon's, not Anakin's.

When Qui-Gon returned with two cups of tea, I pointed this out, and he  
laughed. "It is another symptom of the fickleness of youth. New  
Knights are eager to make their own path, and Anakin wishes to move  
out as soon as he can."

"He has been a Padawan for years, and a slave before that." I  
shrugged. "There is a certain logic for him to define independence  
for himself."

"Your explanations make far too much sense, Obi-Wan," he said,  
teasing, and sat down on the small couch in the common room.

"I did not come home to be the sensible, legendary Kenobi," I said,  
sitting next to him. "I came to be the bondmate to someone named  
Qui-Gon Jinn. Have you seen him anywhere?"

"Perhaps." He bent in for a slow kiss I responded with a hunger that  
had been unsated for far too long. Dimly, I was aware of twining my  
arms around his neck, locking us closer together. Dimly, I could feel  
one of his hands come up to tug away the leather thong holding my hair  
back. All that truly mattered to my reality was his mouth, strong and  
warm and welcoming.

When we parted, his hands were at my head. They had held me steady  
through the kiss, but now they alternately rubbed at my scalp and  
carded through my hair, which had for a while now been longer than  
his. "Oh, Force, how I've missed you."

"Not as much as I have missed you." I leaned into his touch, eyes  
half-closed. "Most of my missions have been solo; somehow that seems  
less lonely than partnering with a Jedi I don't know well. At least  
you had Anakin."

"He is not you, Obi-Wan, and never will be." A wistful smile crossed  
his face. "Still, he will make a fine Knight."

"I remember when you said that about me." I tucked my legs up onto  
the couch, half underneath me.

"You _are_ a fine Knight." Qui-Gon handed me one of the cups of tea,  
and sipped carefully on the other. "He has not proven himself yet."

"He has taken the Trials; that is proof." My words felt suddenly  
hollow. My own trials, such as they were, had proven nothing to me.  
The Council had considered my actions braver and more suited to a Jedi  
than they actually had been. I had never told anyone of my  
insecurity, even Qui-Gon. But still... Frowning a little, I gulped  
down most of the cup of tea.

"Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon put one hand on my shoulder, a reassuring  
pressure. "Do not fear yourself. Your trials may have been  
unorthodox, but the Council would not have accepted them if they did  
not prove your worth. And," he added with a smile, "you are rarely  
orthodox in anything you do."

"Perhaps you're right." I could not rid myself of my doubts, but I  
hid them away where the lifebond could not see them

Qui-Gon seemed reassured by that. "As for Anakin, he did well at the  
Trials. I still don't know what went on, but even Mace was  
impressed." Softly, almost to himself, he added: "I knew Anakin would  
prove himself. I knew there was a reason I found him."

"And was there a reason you found me?"

"I found you because I needed you." He looked at me, eyes shining.  
"And I still do need you, because I love you, because I am part of  
you." One hand ran lightly along the side of my face, then hovered  
lightly over the bonding collar. "When I took Anakin as my Padawan,  
it was not for any lack in my life. It was the Force that guided me,  
because the Force needed him. He will be a powerful weapon against  
the Sith, Obi-Wan; I _know_ this, as surely as I know my own heart."

"Qui-Gon." I sighed in reproof that was only partly feigned. "I  
appreciate your enthusiasm over Anakin-- and his deeds will reflect  
well on you as his Master-- but I am not here for long. The Brill are  
a volatile people; I do not know how long the current quiescence will  
last. I will be going back soon. While I am here, together with you,  
could this time be for us?" I looked pleadingly up at him, hoping he  
would not take offense. "For us only, not for any others?"

He was silent for a long moment, and then his eyes creased with a  
warm, gentle smile. "Of course. Forgive an old man for delighting in  
the pleasures of the young."

"Mmm. Remember, Qui-Gon, I am still young." I tugged gently at a  
lock of his hair.

"Yes, my Knight." He bowed his head in playful submission. "Forgive  
me."

"Forgiven." I kissed the top of his head. "Now come, bondmate mine.  
We have many lonely nights to make up for."

* * *

Making love to him, I had discovered long before, was like a dance.  
Thanks in part to the feedback of the bond, we each knew just how to  
move, when to thrust and when to rock, when to caress and when to  
kiss.

Now, there was a feeling of distance between us that I could not  
shake. I was still his bondmate, and our joining was as complete  
mentally and physically as it had been before, but it still felt  
somehow wrong. Surely, though, that was just imagination, and worry  
from the constant threat of Sith and darkness. I hid my uneasiness  
behind shields, letting Qui-Gon see only the love and pleasure.

As so often in the past, we came together, but my release felt empty.  
The call that came shortly thereafter was almost a relief. "The  
Brilli ambassador just sent me a rather panicked message," I told  
Qui-Gon, curling back up next to him. "It seems I am needed again."

"No rest," he said wryly, and sighed. "When do you leave?"

"The first diplomatic courier leaves tomorrow, late morning. I could  
have booked something sooner, but all the available ships are far too  
slow."

"So we have tonight." Qui-Gon pulled me closer, so that I was lying  
half on top of him. "That is better than nothing."

"I don't suppose I could take you as my first Padawan?" I said with a  
smile. "Perhaps we could arrange a few missions together, now that  
both of us are free of Padawans."

"I would like that." One hand stroked lazily up and down my back.  
"Sleep now, my Knight. Tomorrow will come, but until then, you are  
safe with me."

"Mmm." I closed my eyes, relaxing against him. "You make a good  
mattress, Qui-Gon," I said sleepily.

His chuckle was barely audible, more of a vibration through his chest.  
"Is that why you chose me?"

Answering would have been too much effort, so I just smiled and let  
myself sleep. Sleep, and-- for the first time in a while-- dream.

* * *

"Mi'aral kovar ten akii sor." Each word spoken banishes any  
uneasiness in my heart. This is without a doubt the right thing to be  
doing. The circle of flowers in his hair is complete, and the ritual  
is almost done. "Ama ki'tovo ivaal. Kes kestin alaka."

Qui-Gon's eyes open, and he struggles to focus on me. "Shhh, love," I  
whisper, ghosting my hand over his cheek. "Everything is all right."

His hand trembles as he reaches up. He tries to speak, but the only  
thing I can recognize is a single hoarsely whispered word:  
"...love..."

"Always, Qui-Gon." I see death reflected in his eyes, can feel his  
fear through the bond, and I send reassurances back. "Sleep now,  
love. There is no death; there is only the Force."

* * *

There is no death, there is only the Force.

Qui-Gon's breathing was shallow and easy. He slept free of worries.  
I shifted a little and closed my eyes again. I would have him all my  
life, I reminded myself. We would live together, and die together,  
and be together always.

The next morning, Qui-Gon left early; Anakin needed to talk to the  
Council, and though a Knight now, had requested that Qui-Gon be there.  
"It should not take long," Qui-Gon said, kissing me goodbye. "I will  
be sure to see you off."

Despite his words, though, I did not see him again that morning. I  
waited as long as I could on the landing pad, but I could not wait too  
long without risking a war among the Brill. Finally, I could not  
delay any longer, and left, uneasiness swirling about me like a dark  
cloak.

The journey to Brill would take two days. I should have been in  
contact with the Brilli government, trying to keep the peace intact  
until I could get there. But the Force was restless around me, and  
the bond I shared with Qui-Gon felt strained and brittle. I called  
his private quarters several times, with no luck, and even tried the  
Council.

The calls, all unanswered, left nothing with me but a dull and  
frightening ache. It was only that evening that I got word from  
Coruscant; and it was not Qui-Gon.

"Jedi Kenobi?" Even the holographic projection of the unfamiliar Jedi  
had an aura of nervousness. "This is Knight Aiia."

I was able to place the name, then: she had been appointed to the  
Council to replace Ki-Adi Mundi, who was training a Padawan of his  
own. I had seen very little of her, but she had seemed responsible  
and cool-headed. Now, she was acting more like a jittery young  
Padawan. "Yes?"

"I, uh..." She shifted restlessly. "There is something you should be  
aware of. Master Jinn is..." Again, her words faltered.

"Is what?" I said, a little impatiently. Qui-Gon could not be dead or  
severely injured; either way, the bond would have long since told me.

"I think it would be easier if you saw." She looked at something out  
of range of the holoprojector, and reached forward. The holographic  
Aiia flickered out, replaced by a small-scale projection of the  
Council chambers.

I sat forward, interested. I knew that the Council kept visual  
records of their sessions, but I had never yet seen one. The figures,  
though small, were clear. I watched as Anakin and Qui-Gon entered.  
Anakin bowed low, greeting the Council politely before he stepped  
forward to speak.

"Tatooine is all I remember of my youth." He held his head high,  
looking at each of the Council members in turn. "That, and a dream of  
being Jedi. I cannot count the times I hoped and dreamed that the  
Jedi would come and set us free, and that I would become one of them."

The Council was silent, waiting. Anakin took a deep breath. "That  
dream is now shattered," he said, low and cold. "I am a Jedi, yes,  
but what does that mean? What is it that I am serving? One of my  
recent missions took me back to Tatooine." It was clear, even in  
holoprojection, that his entire body was tense. "My mother was dead.  
My friends were dead. The slaves were still slaves, were still  
suffering, and everyone turned their backs. I was not allowed to  
help, and no other Jedi would try."

Yoda tapped his cane against the floor. "Tragic it is, what has  
happened; but it is all part of the Force. Happen, it will, whether  
we wish it or not."

"The Force," Anakin sneered. I shivered. This proud, cool anger  
seemed to me more real for him than the smile at the Knighting  
ceremony. "That is all you talk about, but it means nothing to you.  
You are as decadent, as corrupt, as useless, as the Republic you  
serve."

Adi Gallia leaned forward. "Are you resigning then, _Knight_?"

"No. I will still do what I can for the people, as is my duty. But I  
will not be bound by your rules, not any more. Your time is over; you  
just need to see that. You are blind, all blind."

"You speak out of turn," Mace Windu said, leaping angrily to his feet.

Anakin bowed mockingly. "I apologise, Master." When he straightened,  
his lightsaber was in his hand, shimmering red. Before anyone could  
move, he had lunged forward, severing Mace's head cleanly.

I stared, morbidly mesmerised, as Anakin killed another Council member  
and wounded a third, before he was surrounded by a fence of  
lightsabers. Still he fought on, like some trapped, enraged animal.

"No!" Qui-Gon, the last to break from shock at Anakin's actions,  
pulled his own lightsaber. Before igniting it, he used it as a club,  
knocking the Council away from Anakin.

"Qui-Gon," Yoda said, turning his attention away from Anakin. "Stop.  
Help us, you must."

"No."

I reached out to the small holographic Qui-Gon, but my fingers,  
predictably, passed through him. "What are you doing?" I asked him,  
not expecting an answer.

"Dark he is. Can you not see this? He must be stopped."

"No," Qui-Gon said again. Behind Yoda, Anakin swung his lightsaber,  
and the small Jedi Master fell. Qui-Gon did not seem to see. "I  
won't let you take another of mine," he said, though I couldn't tell  
who he was talking to. His voice was wild and cracking. "Anakin is  
not dark! He is balance. He is the Chosen One. He is right."

Security guards burst in, and together Anakin and Qui-Gon whirled to  
face the new danger. The guards had blasters, but the 'sabers blocked  
the bolts easily. One flew wild, hitting the holo recorder, and that  
was where the recording ended.

Knight Aiia flickered back into view. I stared at her. "What does  
this mean?" I demanded

"It means that Master Jinn's Padawan was always our enemy," she said  
quietly. Her voice was trembling. "The mind-Healers think now that  
he hid the Darkness within him from everyone, even from his Master,  
but that it was always there."

"I see." I closed my eyes, probing gently along the bond. I could  
not tell where Qui-Gon was, but I could tell he had closed himself off  
from me. "Where are they now?"

"Anakin Skywalker was killed. He has been judged guilty by the  
remaining Council, and will be burnt and buried without honor." As  
befits a traitor, her eyes said silently.

"And Qui-Gon?"

"Escaped. He fled while the guards were detaining Anakin, and we  
aren't able to trace him. Knight Kenobi, I don't know quite how to  
say this, but-- it is thought that he is highly unstable. At any  
rate, he is likely to be a danger to Jedi and to other sentients. We  
ask that you use your knowledge of his ways to track him down and  
bring him into our custody."

Use my knowledge-- and my bond. I was silent for a moment. "I will  
do as you ask," I said at last, heavily. "When I have finished with  
the Brill, I will turn all my energy to finding Qui-Gon."

"Your service is appreciated, Knight." She bowed. "You will not be  
considered active for standing missions until you have finished." The  
holographic projection flickered and disappeared.

"Qui-Gon." I closed my eyes, sinking down to sit on the floor,  
hugging my knees to my chest. "Oh, Qui-Gon, love, what happened?"

I had known of the Padawan he had trained before me, Xanatos, whose  
turning to the Dark had sent Qui-Gon into several years of emotional  
isolation. I could easily guess that having another Padawan fall  
would be a serious blow to him.

Serious enough to snap his mind?

Sighing, I stood. For now, I had to concentrate on the Brill  
situation, if only because of duty. I had to keep them from war  
before I could worry about Qui-Gon's situation. And then I would try  
to find him.

Not just try. I _would_ find him. I would find him, and I would  
bring him home. Nothing else mattered.

* * *

  


  


#### Act V: Night.

Ten years later  


* * *

  


I could feel traces of Qui-Gon's aura, dying echoes in the Force  
patterns of Endor's moon. He had been here at some point in the  
recent past. I was close; I was always close, and never close enough.  
He fled from his fears, real and imagined, and I chased close to his  
heels. One day I would catch him. Soon.

Somewhere, distantly, I knew there were wars breaking out. In the  
back of my mind I was aware that my duty to the Jedi would be better  
served by going back to the service of the Republic. But I had orders  
to find Qui-Gon, and that was my existence right now. It would be my  
existence even without the orders.

Endor had been my last lead. It was not the first time I had lost the  
scent; this was getting to be a ritual. I chose an isolated place in  
the forest and knelt. Gently I probed the bond. "Let me in, Qui-Gon,  
bondmate," I whispered. "Let me see."

Sometimes I caught glimpses of where he was. Sometimes, if he was  
asleep when I probed, I slipped into his dreams. Each time, they were  
more fractured, more frightened, and far more tired.

He was dying now. Old and dying. I could feel it through the bond,  
and he had to know. "There isn't much time left," I whispered,  
sending wordless pleas through the bond. "Let me at the least say  
goodbye to you."

Reluctantly, he let me into his surface thoughts. I could see a small  
planet, red and dry, under a sick white sun. One moon hanging large  
and swollen above the cracked horizon. Isolated, with no sentients  
close by. A dying planet for a dying Jedi.

Then the images were gone, but it was enough for me to know where he  
was. I programmed my small one-man ship for the third planet in the  
Ekar system, at the edge of the galaxy.

He was there when I arrived. I think he was tired of the chase, tired  
of always running. I stepped out and met him, hiding my flinch at the  
emptiness in his once-clear blue eyes.

"Qui-Gon." I hugged him cautiously. Under the thick clothes, he felt  
thinner than I expected. The Jedi tunics were gone, but he still wore  
the collar. I touched it, then touched my own. "Do you remember me?"

His lips moved, silent at first. "Obi-Wan?" he said hoarsely.

"Yes." My eyes filled with unexpected tears. "Qui-Gon, my heart. I  
have come to bring you home."

"Home," he echoed. It sounded like a word he did not understand.  
"Where is home?"

"Home..." I hesitated. My home now was my ship; once it had been  
Coruscant, but neither of us had lived there for years. Home was the  
end of the journey. "Home is here," I said at last. "You are dying,  
Qui-Gon, but I am here for you."

I led him into the ship, into a small room between the engines.  
Qui-Gon fell to his knees. Gently, I guided him down to lie on the  
floor.

"Obi-Wan," he said hesitantly. "Will...can..."

I let him struggle with the words while I moved to get a small  
container I carried with me everywhere. Anakin had died as befits a  
traitor; Qui-Gon was no traitor, but I could not allow him to taint  
the Force with the mistakes he had made, or with the madness that his  
mistakes had left him to carry. And so I had researched, finding a  
way to let him die without the ability to affect newer Jedi.

"...can you forgive me?" he said, finally.

I knelt near him and stroked his hair gently. It was fully grey by  
now; grey and silver and white streaking together. "I forgive you for  
Anakin," I said softly, "because that was not your fault. But I  
cannot forgive what you have done. And I can't allow it to continue."

The container held a stasis unit that carried small flowers, white  
with the barest hint of pink. "These are mikial flowers," I told him.  
I held a flower before his eyes, but I did not think he saw anything  
but me. "The mikial is a Force-absorbing plant. It will absorb the  
Darkness within you, and help you find peace."

Silently, I placed some of the flowers on his chest. That was what  
the ritual required. Chest, mind, and groin, the three centers of the  
body.

There were words needed for this ritual; it had not been a language I  
knew well, but I had memorized the phrases. I had repeated them to  
myself, over and over until I could recite it without looking. It had  
given me something to do besides stare at whirling stars outside my  
ship.

Kneeling, I gently lifted his head into my lap so that I was in  
contact with him. I twined the longer-stemmed flowers into his hair,  
white on white, and began to murmur the words. "Sital to kova ken  
arial'kes. Mor'li kaman liivam."

The words were powerful; in combination with the flowers, it would  
bind a Jedi to his body even at the moment of death. The flowers  
would absorb the Darkness; they would also absorb the Light, and none  
of Qui-Gon's essence would be freed to the Force.

Somehow, even knowing this, I was at peace. The chase was over; I had  
completed my mission. And with Qui-Gon dying, our lifebond assured  
that I too would die. I would not have to live without him.

Qui-Gon's eyes fluttered shut. I finished in a trembling whisper.  
"Ama ki'tovo ivaal. Kes kestin alaka." And then, to reassure him:  
"Shh, love. Everything is all right."

He never had a reason not to trust me. I could see the love in his  
eyes. "Yes," he mouthed silently, and gave a shaky smile. "Love  
you." And his hand reached up, brushing my cheek.

"Always, Qui-Gon."

He shuddered, and the bond screamed with pain and fear. Then he  
relaxed. The flowers absorbed his Forcesoul, deepening first to pink  
and then to a deep blood-red. My breathing was loud in the silence.

"Sleep now," I whispered, bending to kiss his forehead.

I was all too aware of how soon I would die; with the lifebond, there  
was no way out. I was also painfully aware of the Darkness within  
myself. I had never purged the insecurities, and I was also sure that  
my single-minded pursuit of Qui-Gon had tainted me. I could feel dark  
threads through my entire being. Perhaps I was not as dangerous to  
the Force as Qui-Gon was, but I could not risk releasing what I was.

Silently, I lay on my back next to Qui-Gon. I held one of his  
lifeless hands in my own, twining my fingers with his, and placed  
mikial flowers on my own body. Slowly, hesitantly, I began the words  
of ritual. I would not regret dying. I was old and tired, and there  
was no place left for me. Closing my eyes, I waited for night.

* * *

There is a dream.

I am kneeling. Qui-Gon is lying with his head in my lap. I know I  
love him, and I feel content in his presence. I am weaving pink-white  
flowers into his hair, and am chanting something softly. I do not  
recognize the words, but they feel like something I have said many  
times, and with each word I feel more at peace. I am old, he is old,  
and we are both dying. He looks at me, reaches one shaking hand up to  
touch my cheek, and tries to say something. No real sound comes out.  
Then he shudders against me, and he dies. I whisper words of comfort  
and close my eyes, knowing I also will die.

And then I die.

* * *

  
* "The one rule of life we can not rearrange:  
* The only thing constant is change."  
* -- Jekyll & Hyde, the musical 


End file.
